


I'm Sorry, Father.

by PikachuBandit



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Fear, Graphic Description, Implied Homophobia (his dad), Luke is terrified of disappointing his dad, M/M, Michael is abusive (in real life hes a kitten), Running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PikachuBandit/pseuds/PikachuBandit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His father didn't like the fact he was gay and Luke knew that. He was terrified of disappointing his dad, but he loved his boyfriend more than anything. <br/>His boyfriend also happens to be extremely abusive to the point where Luke decides to run. Maybe his dad is right; nothing good comes out of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry, Father.

Danger.  
  
The word rang in the blond boy's mind as he sprinted down the crowded sidewalk, weaving in and out of people. His bare feet pounded against the concrete, the rocks digging into the flesh but he could hardly notice; the frantic beating of his heart was drowning out everything else. He was running from his nightmares; the darkness nipping at his ankles every time he slowed. He was running from his broken dreams; the crushing weight slipping off his shoulders with every footstep. He was running from the person he was and the person he was going to be.  
  
The cold air stung at his body, nipping at the bloody and bare arms and legs that were moving against the wind through the night. His brown eyes were glazed over with tears as his lungs burned. He couldn't move for much longer without risking passing out in the middle of the road, so he slowed. He slowed until he felt the cuts on the bottom of his feet burn, leaving a small smear of blood on the rocks. He slowed until he could feel the flame in his throat and lungs, pulsating with every breath. He slowed until he could hear his name screamed angrily by his nightmare in his mind. He slowed until he was at a complete stop, staring at the darkness in front of him. The darkness was rolling all around him, putting people to sleep as they all flicked off the lights like routine. He felt its crushing weight against his body, as if it was trying to push him to the ground and pin him there until they were back. He fell to his knees before collapsing to the ground on his side, his entire body aching. His t-shirt and boxers were splattered with bits of blood -- his own blood -- as he migrated one of his hands to his side, cradling a dripping wound.  
  
"I'm sorry," he cried shamefully, his voice cracking at the sudden use. It was hoarse and dry, as if he'd been screaming for hours, without a single drink to make him nourished. He winced at the sudden jolt of pain surging through his body, his eyes clenched shut as he slightly arched his back off the pavement. "I'm sorry Father, I'm sorry."

The world seemed to still as the young teen pleaded and cried loudly, his frail body shivering in the cold. His left hand migrated away from the wound, towards his right side and along the protruding bones. They felt brittle under his touch, as if one more blow would cause them to shatter once and for all. Moving his hand once again, the blond moved it towards his neck, lightly pressing onto the dark, finger-like bruises that were littered along his ghastly pale chest and neck. His sobs slowed to a dull wheeze for oxygen as he dropped his hand and slowly pushed himself off the ground. He pushed himself up into a semi-sitting position, resting his elbows on his knees. Pain seared through his bones but he chose to ignore it as he focused on the small puddle of blood that had began to form by his side. Hesitantly picking his head up, he began looking around the street slowly and the boy's chest grew tight as he saw a silhouette at the end of the street, sauntering towards him in a menacing manner.   
  
"No no no, Mikey, please, no," the boy begged mercifully, scrambling to his feet as he kept his eyes trained on the dark figure that was growing larger by the second. He began running forward, wincing at every step as he kept glancing behind him, paranoid of the other person -- Mikey -- catching him. The cold of the night burned at his flesh, seeping through his thin layers of clothing and pricking at the pale skin. He wiped his eyes with the back of his violently shaking hand, picking up his speed. His feet began to grow numb with each step, his body beyond the point of shaking.   
  
"I'm sorry, Father. I'm sorry," the blond kept muttering apologetically, whimpering quietly as he reached a forest at the end of the road. The only options left were to approach Michael and accept his fate or run and risk his life inside of the forest. Deciding that he rather be murdered in the forest than by the hand of Michael, he took off sprinting into the forest. "I'm sorry I've failed you."   
  
 He stumbled over the fallen trees and branches, the adrenaline in his bones rising as the dim lighting of the street lights where left behind him, leaving no source of left -- aside from the partially hidden moon. His heart raced as he glanced behind him just to be welcomed by the absence of the figure. That just meant he could be anywhere. As his breathing began to waver, the boy slowed to a stop and quickly looked around in hopes of catching a glimpse of Michael. A loud maniacal laughter rang in the air, too close for his liking.   
  
"Do you really think you can run from me, Lukey-boy?" Michael called out angrily, his tone laced with pure disgust and insanity. Luke silently whimpered, cowering in front of tree behind him before breaking out into a small jog. The pine needles and dried leaves were crunching beneath his feet as he attempted to move quickly, not daring to let the pain to take over. The bitter thought of Michael catching him hurt more than every single ounce of pain he's felt combined. He ran towards a large tree, his breathing light as he tried to figure out how to escape; if he could climb the tree and control his sounds, he'd be safe.   
  
"Hello Luke," Michael's thick voice came through, startling the blond out of his wits as he began to stumble backwards. The voice was too close. Far too close. Luke ended up stumbling right into Michael who instantly wrapped an arm around the younger boy's torso, clamping a hand over his mouth with his index finger and thumb plugging his nose to stop any oxygen from entering his body. 

"You think you can run away from me?" Michael snarled, pressing his lips against Luke's earlobe, biting down on it harshly. Luke tried to sob but he couldn't make any sound. His head began to feel light and his body began to give up; he couldn't fight any more. He slung his entire weight against the taller boy, his mind going hazy. Michael threw Luke to the ground, shoving him off his chest. Laughter rang in the air as Luke landed on his injury from earlier, sobs now escaping his body. Michael pinned him to the ground, digging his knees into the small of the blond's back, his hand migrating to clasp around his throat.   
  
"We're going to have to teach you a little lesson about why you have to behave," Michael snarled, tightening his grip around Luke's neck before yanking the boy upwards. His back arched off the ground with his lower back and legs still pinned to the ground. Tears streamed from his cheeks as he tried to cough but didn't have enough oxygen to do so. He was truly fucked.  
  
"I could have my way with you right now," Michael continued, dropping his tone a few octaves as he bit down on the flesh of Luke's cheek harshly, sure to leave a mark. Lule whimpered quietly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he listened to the brunet's words. "Make you scream so loud that everyone will know that you're mine -- especially you. You're mine and no matter how many times you try to deny it.. You. Are. Mine." Michael snarled, increasing Luke's arch with every pause. Lule just closed his eyes one last time before his body went limp and his voice came out in a soft whisper.  
  
"I'm sorry Mikey. I'm yours." His thick Australian accent made his words seem quieter, like it would kill someone if said too loud. Michael froze in his spot and looked around briefly, taking in his surroundings; trees stretched all around, the ground coated with fallen leaves and branches and the moon was now gone. There was no way any one could see them. Turning his gaze back down to the boy, he smiled triumphantly at the sight. Luke's back was still arched with Michael's knee in the small of it, but it was clear he had given up. His face was turning paler than normal as he struggled to breathe, but his face gave away no emotions. Luke was ready to give up on life itself. "You can do what ever you want."   
  
"Oh yeah?" Michael  spoke quietly before pulling away from Luke, stepping away from the boy's body. He watched as the blond dropped his head, gasping for air as he squirmed against the ground with a hand moving to the hem of his shirt. "Strip." Quickly raising his head off the ground, Luke shook his head.  
  
"No no no, Mikey, not here, no." He begged, sitting up. He folded his arms over his chest, sobbing quietly. One of his hands slipped beneath his shirt and poked at his wound, wincing at how deep it was. Michael just shook his head before shrugging, replying in a sneer tone. "You think I care, Lukey? You were the one to run. You deserve to be punished here."  
  
"At home, I'll let you do anything," Luke sobbed, shaking his head. "Not here, please. No, please. I'm sorry, I'll never run again." Michael laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the empty forest before he stepped forward and smacked Luke across the back of the head before digging his heel into the younger boy's back, kicking him forward. Luke whimpered quietly, clenching his eyes shut at the feeling. His body curled in on itself as Michael knelt down to his height, pressing his lips against Luke's ear.  
  
"Get up, we're going home." Luke nodded briefly, pushing himself up onto his knees before trying to stand. Michael just scoffed bitterly, kicking in the back of his head, causing the blond to fall back down on his knees. "You're fucking useless." Luke sighed quietly and looked up to the sky, the stars and moons hidden by dark and dreary clouds and large trees.  
  
"I'm not strong any more. Father, I'm afraid of what I'm becoming."


End file.
